


Hollywood Adventures

by brotherfuckers



Series: Striderclan [48]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cougar - Freeform, Fluff, Gen, Incest, Movie Premier, Paparazzi, Protective Striders, Protectiveness, Sexual Harassment, Sibling Incest, Stridercest - Freeform, Unwanted Advances, portective striders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-29 10:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brotherfuckers/pseuds/brotherfuckers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In D's career he spends a lot of time out in Hollywood. Sometimes his brothers come out to visit him and sometimes adventures happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bro v Paparazzi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D’s movie is about to hit it big so he invites his biggest supporter out to Hollywood. Takes place while twins are little.

“Bro. Bro Bro Bro.”

“Wow, D, don’t wet yourself. All I did was answer the phone.”

“Bro, it’s done. It’s actually done, Bro. And. And they like it.”

“Your movie?”

“Everybody who has seen it, everyone who has only seen a part of it, they can’t stop talking about how much they love it. They are predicting blockbuster and top movie and god the numbers they are throwing at me. Do you know how much it took to make? Next to nothing when they are telling me that it’s going to get billions. Bro. God, Bro. I did it. I fucking did it. I made a movie and everyone likes it. I- I-” D can’t continue because of the sobs stuck in his throat.

“D, breathe. Breathe, buddy. I knew ya could do it. Knew ya had the stuff back in highschool. I’m so happy for ya. So proud of ya. That’s fuckin’ awesome, bro.”

“Bro, Bro, Bro. You have to come out. I’m buying you a ticket now. You have to come to the official premier.”

“What? What about the brats?”

“I’ll buy Mom and Rose and Roxy a ticket to Houston.”

“Just take Mom to the premier.”

“No. I want you. You- You’ve always been there. You’ve always supported me. You fucking moved to Houston with me. You’ve watched the brats while I’ve been away. You’ve edited my scripts. You’ve listened to be ramble on for hours about my stories and listened to me rant about these Hollywood imbeciles. You’ve been my support. Without you- without you, I wouldn’t be here. So, so, it’s gotta be you here.”

Bro has matching tear streaks down his cheeks to the ones on D’s face several states away.

“A’ight. Ya make the arrangements, I’ll be there.”

* * *

Bro’s jaw drops when he steps off the plane and there is a fucking stretch limousine with a driver holding a sign with “Strider” waiting on the tarmac. The private jet had been a treat in itself. The girls also got similar treatment (though Bro’s car is no limo).

The cool interior is matched with high end leather, fancy lightings, and a stereo system Bro could drool over. With a bit of snooping, Bro finds the liquor, high end vodka, and a small bottle of orange juice (the combination makes it hard to swallow the lump in his throat). He goes for a virgin screwdriver as the limo driver takes him away from the airport. Bro can’t help himself when he presses his face close to the window to stare at everything when they get close to Los Angeles and subsequently Hollywood. He can’t help but be in awe as the car pulls up to a very tall building and he almost falls out of the car when the driver comes around to open his door.

“Mr. Strider is inside waiting for you, Mr. Strider. I shall take your personal belongings to his suite. Just tell the receptionist your name and he’ll point you in the right direction.”

Bro dumbly nods at her as she steps out of the way to let him out of the car. Bro only briefly notes how cute the driver’s hat looks on her before she professionally sweeps his door closed and returns to her seat to swiftly pull away from the curb. He stands there on the sidewalk for a moment longer, staring up at the ridiculous building, the name across the top ringing bells from D’s rants. He shakes his head to clear it and heads inside.

He instantly regrets wearing his comfortable, casual black jeans and a polo as he feels so underdressed next to the Armani suits and Versace skirts that move about him with quick purposeful steps. He’s a bit bewildered until he spots the bright red desk on the far side of the lobby that several other people are stopping at before heading off into the rest of the building. With nothing to lose, he approaches the sharply dressed young man at the counter.

“Hi there. Here to see D- Richard- D- whatever-the-fuck-he-goes-by Strider.”

“May I have your name, sir?”

It’s weird being called sir. Almost as weird as being called mister. “Uh, Derrick Strider.”

“I do not have a Derrick, but I do have a Bro Strider.”

“Heh, yea, that’s my nickname.”

“Alright. It seems Mr. Strider is expecting you. Take the right elevator to the fourty-first floor.”

“Ah, thanks.”

“The elevator on the right, not the right elevator, though the right elevator is the one on the right,” the receptionist quickly clarifies after he thinks about what he said and seeing Bro’s blank look.

“Got it, thanks,” Bro holds up a hand to pacify him. With a parting smile and “Have a good day!” from the receptionist, Bro walks away and follows the stream of people to the elevator. Bro feels the slight awkwardness raise it’s ugly head as he waits with a bunch of apparently important people for the elevator. He’s follows them on after the silver doors open and let the other people out. He pushes his floor and watches as the rest of them push buttons below his. He mentally preens himself for having his destination above the rest. The higher the floor the more important right?

He gets to ride the last several floors by himself, taking the moment to hum lightly in the echoey space. The floor he exits onto is total chaos and he is stunned into not moving as the rush overwhelms him. He tucks himself somewhat by the nearest fica tree and watches the madness. No one pays him any attention. He slips his phone out.

TT: I’m here.  
TT: Wherever here is.  
TG: oi  
TG: where is here  
TT: Like I fuckin know.  
TT: Standin next to a tree.  
TG: outside  
TT: No. 41st floor.  
TG: come find my office  
TT: No.  
TG: it has my name on the door  
TT: No.  
TG: ask someone to help you  
TT: No.  
TG: i can see you standing there  
TT: No.  
TG: ugh such a wuss sometimes  
TT: No.  
TG: you dumb asshole  
TT: Luv ya too.

Bro slips his phone into his pocket just as he sees D’s blonde head pop up over the crowd. The tall fucker. With a grace that comes from being accustomed to moving about in this madness, D dodges his way through the crowd, crossing the last several feet in a crushing tackle hug that actually makes Bro take a step back.

“Nice to see ya too, sweetheart.”

“Hiya, Bro.”

* * *

“Oooh! And over here! Look over here!”

“D, ya already pointed that one out when we passed by the first time.”

“Sorry. Just kinda excited. I told you there was a lot of attractions right around my work. A lot of good food places. Organic places that serve the local stuff because that’s better for everyone. We should start feeding the twins organic to keep them healthy.”

“OJ and AJ are healthy,” Bro grumbles. “As much as I like to hear ya ramble on about all this shit, d’ya realize there are people takin’ our picture?”

“Oh yea. Well I mean, Hollywood kinda knows me already. And the shades have become signature. You should see the cartoons they do of me. They are kinda awesome. They draw me really skinny.”

“D, you are really skinny.”

“I know, but I’m like the stick figure with a pair of shades. So they all know about me. It’s probably just the paparazzi gathering news for the upcoming premier. Kinda a big deal around here, you know?”

* * *

“I look ridiculous in this monkey suit.”

“Yes,” D looks him over with a critical eye, “you do. But it’s a sight better than your usual outfit.”

“Say what now?” Bro looks away from where he is straightening his tie in the mirror. “Them’s fightin’ words, D.”

“We don’t have time for a strife otherwise I’d kick your arse.”

“Did you really just say arse?”

“Damn it. I’ve apparently been working too long with this British actress.” D wanders over to Bro. “Don’t worry, you look good. I wouldn’t have you as my arm candy if you didn’t.”

“Pfft.”

* * *

The lights are bright and the crowd is a loud roar that hits Bro as soon as the limo door opens. D slides out first, nice and easy, like he was born to do it. Bro mimics his actions, only a little stilted by his own standards. He is glad that D let him, and actually encouraged him, to wear his shades. He had been worried that their extreme design wouldn’t be appropriate, but now he wouldn’t ditch them for the world. Too bad he doesn’t have ear plugs to go along.

He trails after D, pausing to glance at the snapping flashes of cameras when D does. At one point, D even throws his arm around Bro’s shoulder and pulls him in. Bro awkwardly tries to respond but D is already moving on. D drifts from side to side of the carpet shaking hands and saying hello. Bro admires the way D handles people from the rabid fans to the haughty actors.

There are several quick interviews that D is pulled into to give a quick sound bite about the movie, the premier, gossip about the latest Hollywood scandal, but all of the reporters basically leave Bro alone except for the occasional photograph.

Bro takes a deep breath of relief once they get into the theater and they find their seats. D is practically buzzing with energy next to him, rambling on about everything. Bro just chuckles softly in his direction. He hears the excitement and nervousness in his voice. Bro reaches out and grabs his wildly flinging hand and gives him a solid squeeze in support.

“You got this, D.”

* * *

It’s late when they finally get home. The limo drops them off at the front door of a building so tall that Bro almost falls over backwards while trying to look at the top. D helps him straighten out and shoves him towards the door. They stumble across the lobby, leaning heavily on each other and singing off key as the screwdrivers and apple martinis hit them. Bro is already undoing the tie on his tuxedo and shrugging off his jacket in the elevator. D has to scoop down to pick up the shoes his brother toes off, nearly braining himself on the banister. Bro starts undoing his belt buckle even as D drunkenly fiddles with the key to his suite.

Bro is laughing at something in his own head as he strips down before flopping onto the king sized bed in the second room. D soon follows, falling next to him.

“‘ey, we gots more room here than the futon. Should move ‘ere.”

“Nah, here’s no good for the brats.”

“Oh yea. Love ‘em.”

“I know you do.”

“Love ya too. Best big brother e’er. Me fav big bro.”

“I’m your only big brother.”

“Oh.” Bro lifts his head just enough to turn it towards D. “Still counts.”

“It does. Love you too, Bro.”

* * *

The next morning comes with the pain of a hangover from too many sugary drinks. Bro groans as he rises from the bed to answer nature’s call, stumbling over to the bathroom. He’s only just finished washing his hands when D starts banging on the door for his turn.

“Ya dun stop that racket, D, we gonna have some words.”

“Just let me in you asshole. Or I’m going to pee on all of your stuff.” The bathroom door swings open and D flinches away from the bloodshot eyes glaring out over the heavy bags and ragged face. “You look like hell, Bro.”

“Well someone couldn’t keep to their side of the bed last night and took a couple swings at me when I tried to push your drunk ass away. And I swear if ya call me Mandy one more time-”

“Oh god, I’m sorry I’m sorry. I haven’t even dated her in months.”

Bro just levels a dark look at him, but does step out of the way. D dances into the bathroom and lets out a sigh of relief moments later.

“Does Micky D’s deliver here in LA?”

“No, Bro. But there is one just around the corner. Pick me up a bag of hash browns and sandwiches.”

“Dontcha have assistants?”

“I gave them the day off. They are prolly still hammered.”

“Fuck you, D.” Bro grabs his black jeans and white polo. He’s thankful that his shades survived the night unharmed.

“I would if you were Mandy. Actually I still wouldn’t. She ended up being crazy psycho.”

“No wonder ya were pawin’ at my chest last night.” Bro grabs D’s keys and his phone. “I’m headin’ out. Dun burn the place down.”

“I’m serious about the hash browns!”

Bro looks up the address on the phone as he rides down the elevator and finds that the fast food joint in question is less than a block away. He slips the phone into his pocket and goes to stride across the lobby when the wide screen above the fireplace catches his attention.

He recognizes the show instantly. One of those Hollywood celeb stalker ones. He also recognizes the faces in the photos and video clips. But who wouldn’t recognize their own face. There are flashes of him standing next to D in various locations around Los Angeles and at the premier. The volume is muted so Bro can’t hear what they are saying about the Striders and the show has moved onto its next victim before he can cross the room. He growls at that, shakes his head, and then aiming to ignore it, he continues onto finding breakfast.

He can’t tell if people are giving him any extra consideration as he walks quickly along the sidewalk. Everyone seems to be minding their own business, walking, talking, and texting like normal. But he can’t stop the paranoia creeping over his spine that some of the whispers and roving eyes are targeting him.

He gets to the source of food and literally orders two bags of hash browns and a bag of egg sandwiches to which the poor cashier can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not. She inputs the order when Bro hands her a credit card, and fifteen minutes later, he walks out with three bags of hot delicious food. He is already stuffing one of the sandwiches into his mouth when a tabloid on a newsstand catches his attention. He juggles the bags around to get out some cash, throws the wad of money at the attendant, snatches up the rag, and rushes back to the suite.

* * *

“Oh my fuck, that smells like heaven,” D greets as Bro enters. “Gimme gimme gimme.”

“D, we have to talk.” D tilts his head in confusion at Bro’s serious tone. It doesn’t stop him from grabbing a hash brown and crunching through the crispy layer to burn his tongue on the hot potato underneath. “We are in the tabloids.”

“Ooh! What did they say about my suit?”

Bro hands him the magazine with his thumb pointing to a particular headline.

“Oh.” D munches on the hashbrown as Bro flips it open to the mentioned page. He scans over the highlighted paragraphs and taglines for the photographs. “Oh.”

The paparazzi had caught several images of the two brothers together as they had been ever since Bro showed up at the office. Unfortunately they had also manage to catch a couple odd moments on film that out of context and in a collection give the wrong impression. D’s hug at the office, D’s arm slung around Bro’s shoulders, Bro holding his hand at the theater, D’s piggy back ride at the party, the arm-entwined champagne toast, the messy kiss to the cheek that D apparently did right before the limo ride home, and part of Bro’s strip show between the elevator and the suite door.

“Striders: Brothers or Boyfriends? The new and upcoming director Richard “D” Strider walked down the red carpet with a peculiar character on his arm. This dashing mystery man seems to have taken Strider’s pen name in an odd brand of camaraderie that might point to something more than just brotherly love despite his name of Bro.”

“Comfort and support? Or promises of a fun night ahead?”

“Someone’s getting some sugar.”

“Everyone is going to want a man like Bro.”

“Bro: Brother or Lover?”

“Who is the man behind the shades: puppet connoisseur and niche kink business man. Both weird tastes for D.”

“Anime shades: The new birth of a new trend this isn’t.”

“Huh,” D muses as he starts on his third hash brown.

“That’s your reaction to this? ‘Huh.’ That’s your response!” Bro waves the magazine away. “They can’t do this! I’ma gonna ruin your reputation ‘cause of shit like this. People will call ya a freak ‘cause I’ma freak and I don’t want them to hate you ‘cause of me!”

“Bro,” D tries.

“No! Do they not know how much work ya put into this? This movie is your baby, this premier was your time to shine, and they are focusin’ on me.”

“Bro.”

“I gotta go. Gotta get outta here. Gotta jet before I ruin e’erythin’.” Bro practically throws the bags at D and grabs his bag. He runs out the door with D just standing there with half a sandwich in his mouth.

He paces in the elevator waiting for the slow ride down. He can get a taxi out to the airport and buy the next ticket out. His puppet sales, that the magazine called weird, gave him enough buffer credit for emergencies like this. He pulls his cap out of the bag and tugs it down over his hair. His glasses still stand out, but his eye color would probably stand out more. He can buy another pair at one of the road side stands.

He rushes the elevator doors when they chime open and makes a beeline for the front door. He is startled and somewhat blinded by the sea of flashing cameras that greet him on the other side.

“Fuck!”

“Bro!” “Bro!” “Hey what’s your story?” “Bro!” “Smile for us!” “Where are you from?” “What are smuppets?” “How do you know D?” “Bro!” “Are you really brothers?” “Where’s the rest of the family?” “How is D in the sack?” “Bro!” “What is your real name, Bro?”

The mass of people press towards him with recording devices pointed towards him. He feels panic and a sense of claustrophobia close down on him but he can’t seem to move to get away. He fights the instinct to lash out with the facts that he doesn’t have a katana and that it would ruin D even more.

“Fuck!”

He feels a firm grip wrap around his forearm and haul him back to the front door. As soon as the metal and glass close, the shouts of the paparazzi are muffled to a dull roar.

“Son, you should know better than to feed the sharks.”

Bro looks up at his rescuer. It’s the doorman that he’s seen on the few occasions that Bro has passed through the lobby during daylight hours. The crisp green uniform goes well with the soft chocolate eyes that look at Bro with sympathy.

“Thanks.”

“Just doing my job, son,” the deep voice rumbles out.

“Bro!” D shouts as he runs out of the elevator.

“I got him, Bean. He didn’t get very far. Just stirred up the waters a little bit. He’s safe and sound now, Bean.”

“Oh thank god. Thank you, Logan. Always my lifesaver. You’re the best.”

“Nothing to it, Bean.”

“You though,” D starts, turning towards Bro, “Where exactly did you think you were going?”

“Away.”

“Idiot.”

Bro just ducks his head and run his fingers through his hair. He pauses halfway. “My hat. Where’s my hat?” He looks around frantically.

“Which one was it?”

“The orange one. The one Dirk gave me.”

“It’s not in here. Did you drop it out here?”

“Shit fuck.”

“Alright, I got this.” Bro watches as D takes a deep breath. It’s as if something shifts under the surface and D steps into the role of the hard businessman with a katana for a backbone. It is so different from the smoozy director’s role from the night before, or the casual brotherly D Bro is used to. Even different from when D has had to step in to discipline the boys. It’s a finer cut than Bro even remembers from the incident in high school. Bro wouldn’t want D’s focus to be on him right now and actually feels a little sorry for the crowd outside.

Logan just gives him a nod for support and opens the door for D to walk confidently through.

“Alright,” D’s voice cuts through the clamoring questions, “the fucker who stole my brother’s hat needs to give it the fuck back before I have all your fucking cameras fucking confiscated for investigation into the criminal act of fucking theft!” The paparazzi look between each other. “Charges will be pressed if it is not returned in three!” Movement erupts in the crowd. “Two!” Cameras and recorders are knocked to the ground to be stepped on and shattered. “One!”

There is a flash of orange as an arm sticks out of the mass of bodies with the hat in hand. D plucks it up and instantly his expression changes from the hard lines of doom to a softer more open expression with a slight smile playing on his lips.

“I knew we could come to terms. Thank you everyone for coming out. Please see yourself off the property.” He waves and turns back to where Logan is holding the door open for him with a bright smile of his own.

“Always like watching you work, Bean.”

D flips the cap onto Bro’s head and drags him by the brim away from the front windows. As soon as they are out of sight of the cameras, D pulls him into a hug.

“I don’t give a damn about my reputation, Bro, as long as you and the rest of the family have my back. I don’t need anything or anyone else, okay?” Bro nods into his shoulder. “No one actually cares about the magazines. Not when stories like that are side by side with the latest UFO sighting or alien baby or celebrity cheating scandal. So don’t let those freak you out. You aren’t going to ruin me just by being you. I wouldn’t change you for the world, let alone these morons here in Hollywood. I need you to be my rock, Bro. Even if that means you stay in Houston. You never have to come out here again. I won’t ever love you any less for not coming out to this hell hole. You can support me from Texas. It was great that you got to come and see my first premier. Thank you for that. But from here on out, you can stay back at the apartment and take care of the twins and keep our home and our family safe, okay?”

Bro nods and grips the back of his shirt tighter. “Love ya too, D.”

“Now, let’s get you home.” D pats Bro’s head but only lets go of the hug when Bro’s arms fall away. “Hey Susie!” D calls out to her as she cleans the lobby. “Do you guys have laundry going out today?”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Bro and D are crouched down in a laundry bin with a couple layers of bedding thrown over their heads as the lovely cleaning ladies roll them out the back and across the street. Bro smacks D’s knee for giggling and D smacks him back for the wide grin across Bro’s face.

A smaller car is waiting in the empty lot but with the same driver as before casually leaning against the hood. She smiles at the brothers as they stand up from the laundry and climb out, D having to catch himself before face planting on the ground.

“Stupid long legs,” he grumbles. “Thanks, Ana. I know I told you you had today off-”

“It’s alright, D. Anything for a friend.”

“You’re the best.”

“I bet you’ve already said that to Logan today.”

“Guilty. I can’t help myself. I surround myself with awesome people. Now take this lame ass dork to the airport for me, will you?”

“Yes sir.”

Bro just rolls his eyes at his brother. “Don’t let these Hollywood people get in your head, D. Remember to come home when you need a break. And remember to eat, you skinny fucker!”

“I will, I will.” They hug one last time before D shoves Bro into the car and waves as it drives away. “Can I give you a ride back in the laundry bin, Susie? Actually quite comfortable.”


	2. Dave v Cougar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D is trapped at a social function in Hollywood with a very affectionate cougar on the prowl for tall, skinny, directors. She can't seem to pick up on his intentions to run, run far away, but thankfully Dave is D's knight in shining armor. Warning: unwanted advances and harassment.

The woman’s perfume was giving D a headache as it mixed with her pungently sweet alcoholic breath. And he was afraid with the way she rubbed up against him that the transfer would stay with him for longer than he could remember her name. Which honestly he had already forgotten.

“So then I said, ‘Never try to shave a llama,’ and had the whole table cracking up for the next hour. I was afraid some of them weren’t ever going to breathe again. They were just some of the best people. And it was random seating! Normal, average people! Can you believe it? I can’t imagine getting another random group as good as that crew but that’s why I keep going back on those cruises, hoping to have that luck. You should come with me next time, Mr. Director. We could have so much fun. Even if we don’t end up leaving the cabin,” her voice dropped to what she probably approximated to be a sultry tone but honestly D just tasted some of the crab cake hors d'oeuvres again in the back of his throat.

“Ah. I’m sure it would be a fantastic time,” D lied, “except I’m not fond of open water. Boats are just like prisons with a chance to drown. With my luck it would be the Titanic all over again with people and scientists alike mind boggled on how a giant iceberg went unmelted from the dark tundras all the way in the north arctic circle down to the teal caribbean waters without anyone seeing but little do they know that it’s a stealthy iceberg ninja out to uphold the family honor and tradition by taking out a giant ship and what better way to slip into easy retirement than to melt away to the screams of women, children, and mariachi instruments before anyone can drag it to trial though I don’t think the judicial system is quite equipped to handle an iceberg. I’ll have to write them a letter warning them to prepare for it before I’d ever go on a cruise with you.”

“Oh you just love to over exaggerate, don’t you, D! That’s what makes you so creative,” she pawed at his arm, ignoring the obvious dismissal apparently lost in the glazed look she gained as he rambled. Obviously she wasn’t into him for his rapier wit. She’s probably going more for his troves of treasure and hot bod from the way she was feeling him up. He was afraid that her overly long fake nails would catch on the nice fabric. He tried to shift away but she just pressed closer to him, finding the movements just an excuse to re-situate herself to be in contact with him from knee to shoulder. He would have to burn the suit before letting it contaminate anything else in his wardrobe.

But for all of his creativity, he couldn’t figure out a way to extract himself from her sights without threatening all of his funding for his latest venture. It was a risk, a film that would turn pop culture on its head and make everyone reexamine their lives before realizing it was just a scam to sell more merchandise which would be the strongest subplot of the story that overshadows the main plot which is about not falling for scams like such to fit into pop culture. It’s a film to twist the minds of everyone watching it all the way back to normal with just the vague sense that something serious just happened but they napped through it. She was a valuable executive that he somehow managed to dupe into going along with the venture and providing the capital. He could possibly do without her funds but her departure could cause a chain reaction and draw everyone away from the project and with even just two less supporters, the idea would sink. Just like his metaphor against the iceberg of her stubborn willful obliviousness to his discomfort.

The function D was at actually was a small social gathering of the creative minds and fat wallets of Hollywood. A generous heart from the top echelons of executives planned the party as a evening out on the gardens. D actually enjoyed the hostesses company and usually turned to her first for the funding of his ideas. And she had the background to recognize genius and the social pull to strong arm both sides to appear at the function. Directors, screenwriters, executives, sponsors, etc. all donned their social masks and fell into polite conversation to please their hostess. But as the alcohol started flowing from the open bars, delivered in colorfully garnished glasses, ideas were soon shared and deals were being struck right and left. D wasn’t so lucky.

The woman currently attached to his side didn’t know a thing about movie making or directing but as long as she got a return on her investment she would keep coming back. D’s movies always gave sufficient returns. Enough to pique her interests in other matters outside of a professional setting.

As her hand on his ass proved.

D’s poker face had a hard time holding its composure through the squeeze and he was thankful for his aviators, which hid the twitch starting to pulse under his right eye.

“Seriously, Richard, I bet you have such wonderful ideas and could put them to such great use given the right stage.”

“I’m glad Hollywood has given me a chance to showcase them so far,” D attempted to divert the subject because he was pretty sure that the stage she was talking about was her bed and he did not want to go within fifty feet of that location. “I’ve met such wonderful people here that will give chances to those willing to make the risk to leap to fame.”

“Yes, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve made some headway into the business; you know how women talk. You have such talent, Richard, or may I call you,” she shifted not so subtly, “Dick?”

D couldn’t quite hide the flinch as she ran her hand across the front of his pants as she said his old nickname. He could almost feel the body part in question retreat into his body. He’s sure that he would never have sex again. He did manage to stop the flood of violent words that included “i will slice off your head with your own personal nail file which you probably have hidden somewhere on you since your fucking chipped ragged nails try to catch on everything that you try to catch and has this ever worked on anyone you rude ass hag” with complementary hissing.

“I’m sorry, but I prefer D with my friends. A little short but very eye popping when done in the right typography. Though if that gets too awkward between us, Strider will do just grandly. Actually that’s going to be very preferable for you to use, wouldn’t you say? I bet it sounds nice in your accent.”

“Strider. Oh yes, doesn’t that just send shivers down your spine?”

It did, just not in the way she was intending. Those crab cakes were making a valiant effort to come up and do battle with the witch in front of him in his stead. He was actually starting to consider the implications of throwing up on her and claiming illness. Someone like her might drop funding just because of the embarrassment though.

She batted her over long and too thick eyelashes up at him. “I’ll say it some more back at my place.”

D was about to abandon all pretense of being civilized just to get away from her when a shrill voice comes running at him.

“D! D! D! D! I want some of the colorful drinks that make people giggle!”

D had almost forgotten that he had brought Dave along between the trauma of the situation and how well behaved his little brother was. He had caught Dave a little earlier successfully flirting with a ring of young writers who were twice his age (but a little young for D (and just like this woman hitting on D currently)). This version of him was a bit startling, all wide dopey grin and higher pitched voice. D worried for a split second that he already had gotten into some of the ‘colorful drinks that make people giggle’ before he recognized the mischief in Dave’s eyes.

In the next moment he had a nine year old brat attached to his hip and pulling on D’s jacket. “D! Please! I want one of those silly little umbrellas!”

“Um...” Dave’s interruption made D’s companion take a half step back. D let out a deep sigh of relief then takes in a deep breath of fresh clean air.

“Hey Davey, I don’t think it would be such a good idea to get you some of those drinks. They are for adults.”

“As is this conversation...” D watched as a frown grew on her face momentarily before she schooled it down to something a bit more flattering, “why don’t you go hang out with the girls over there, young man?”

“D! I want some! I can be an adult!” Dave ignored the woman’s entreats and continued to behave brattily and tug on D’s sleeves. “They look sweet and I want sweet! I want a drink! I want- I want an umbrella!” Dave’s voice expertly crept up another notch or two making the woman flinch down against its sharp tone. “D!”

“I said no, Davey. Well actually...”

“D! I want some!”

“I suppose we could get you some virgin drinks!”

“Yay! Virgin! I like virgins!” D rolls his eyes at Dave’s antics. “Wait, what does virgin mean?”

“Something you are too young to understand just yet.” D fought the urge to grin at how snippy the woman’s tone was getting because it was very unattractive but satisfying. Dave was a life saver. “Strider, why don’t we send the young man to bed and then slip out to have a private after party of our own.”

D wanted to laugh in her face about how absurd her suggestion was, that he’d end up doing anything with this woman, especially after her behavior towards Dave.

“D, what does she mean by private party? Are you bringing cake and stuff back to the hotel?” Dave asked excitedly and D began to question the line between acting and real obnoxiousness. “Can I come?”

“Where did you pick up this... adorable... child? He looks almost exactly like you but in miniature.” She changed tactics to actually acknowledge Dave instead of trying to brush him off. It would have worked if she hadn’t been so rude before or so oblivious to D’s reactions to her unwanted advances.

“He’s my little brother. Brought him out here for education purposes. He’s probably the least bratty of the three little brothers that I have.”

Dave preened under the half compliment before puffing up his cheeks in indignation. “Hey!”

D laughed and ruffled his hair before pulling him close. Dave just beams up at D, digging his chin slightly into his side, but it was worth it for the no doubt sickeningly cute pose. D internally crows as the woman takes another step back.

“I see... I guess you’ll be busy tonight deali- taking care of him, won’t you? We should meet up at some other time to... discuss... your talents.”

“I’d love to toss some of my ideas for future works out if you can find some time in your schedule. You certainly have a knack for sifting through all of the pebbles to find that one gem.”

“My assistant will call you to set up some time. I’ll see you around, Mr. Strider.” She raised her glass, somehow still half full and not all over D’s jacket, and took her leave. Both D and Dave waited a beat after she walked out of sight before simultaneously letting out a heavy sigh.

“Thanks, you precious little shit.”

“You reek. Of both her perfume and desperation. I couldn’t leave my big brother to flounder on his own, could I? I’ve never seen a cougar with claws that long before. How does she brush her hair without scratching up her face to hell. Or maybe that’s why she’s caked on that much makeup to hide the scars. And damn did she bathe in the sticky stuff? Lotus bloom, my ass, actually it smells like my ass after a fresh sh-”

“Shut up, rambling brat.”

“Hey, I just take after the best.”

“Aw, you’re calling me the best?”

“No, I meant Bro.”

“I see how you are.” D ruffled Dave’s hair again as they made their way around the edges of the party. The hostess would forgive D’s escape as he had already done his due diligence. “Still, thanks for the rescue.”

“No problem, D. You owe me a new game when we get home.”

“Sure, until then... ice cream.”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“So many.”

“Birthday cake?”

“Best flavor. Only flavor.”

“Of course.” He caught the car keys that Dave tossed him and they slid into the leather seats of the fancy ass car that D’s assistant managed to procure for D specifically for the party gathering. The engine purred as D turned the car on. Both of them were grinning as D peeled out of the driveway. Dave fiddled with the radio until he found a good party song then he turned up the volume. The lamps glowed gold through the mostly empty neighborhood streets as they belted out the lyrics at the top of their lungs. Dave leaned closer to the window to stare out at the city night lights as D carefully wove around the increasing city traffic.

Dave was yawning by the time D finally pulled into the lot of his complex and contemplating the merits of making D carry him up to the suite.

“Ice cream tomorrow, little man,” D commented at the end of another almost jaw unhinging yawn in the elevator.

“Yeah, sure. Just another night of cockblocking for ya. Getting paid in videogames and ice cream. This is the life.”

“Thankfully people still enjoy the cutest little blonde devil- I mean, angel, that I bring to parties even if they have picked up on our little scheme. Most of them are just biding their time before your puberty. Then you’ll be going through the same shit.”

“At least she didn’t call me your kid. I hate when they do that. You aren’t that old.”

“Technically it’s possible but yeah, I’m glad that it’s not. Not ready for the actually responsibility.”

“Think about it,” Dave mumbled as he fell back onto the bed. D helped take off his shoes. “If Dirk and I are brats, imagine what little hellions you would produce.”

“No. I don’t want to. I still got plenty of years before I am even looking for any of that shit. Have to kick you assholes out of my place first.”

“You don’t want Dirk and I living in your basement after college,” Dave asked with a smirk.

“Hell no. Already going to have that with Bro. I’ll need a crowbar to get him out.” D nudged Dave towards the bathroom to brush his teeth after changing from nice suits to pajamas. Then he half-herded and half-carried Dave back towards the bed before he fell asleep in the sink.

“But we can always visit right?” Dave asked as he was tucked in and D gave his hair one last ruffle.

“Of course kiddo,” he was going to continue in all sincerity but the little brat was already asleep by the time he got out the second word. “I love all my little bros too much for you not to visit anyway,” he added in a hushed whisper. D kissed the top of Dave’s head and padded quietly out of the room to go take a shower and burn a certain suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.


	3. Dirk v Agents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another fancy Hollywood party where the Striders can't help but be popular. But there is another group of people who don't really know their boundaries that go after Dirk.

It’s a fancy party. D told him that it was for something super special and had explained all of the esoteric connections in Hollywood which explained just how important the party is. Dirk kinda faded out at the third big name, but Hal took fastidious notes and actually put together a web diagram for Dirk to study at a later date. Dirk is pretty impressed with how much Hal reconstructed from D’s ramblings.

But even with the web map, Dirk can’t really care too much about the going ons of the Hollywood elite. He just knows the basic rule to not embarrass D. Which is easy. The standard operating procedure is to smile and nod and be cute. Things that Dave and Dirk have perfected over the years.

But one thing has remained constant: their impeccable style of dress. It’s always suits. From when they were little and it was simply adorable, to current day where they are finally filling them out and making that shit look good. It’s not always a black tie affair though. Sometimes they wear brightly colored ties ranging from the reds and oranges that match their eyes to the bright blues and soft charcoals that D’s assistant loves to accent with.

Right now, Dirk stands on the corner of the deck in one of those suits that accentuates the sharp lines of his hair and shades. The sparkling lights of high end suburbia fill the pleasant nighttime air behind him. The murmur of conversation mixes with the DJ’s selection of music which Dirk rates as decent, given the venue. The food left something to be desired and they didn’t have any orange soda at any of the bars set up throughout the house, so Dirk has to settle with orange juice, making sure that the bartenders didn’t add any extra ingredients in.

It’s not common knowledge exactly how old the younger brothers are because D keeps his family’s data on lockdown, but it’s fairly obvious that they are in their late teenage years. Which makes it understandable why Dirk has a crowd of... admirers. But doesn’t explain why they are trying to press champagne flutes into his hands. Even more confusing are the tumblers of whiskey that he obviously isn’t old enough to appreciate let alone drink.

He keeps a steady hand on his own cup, not letting anyone swap it out as he politely declines all of them without reason. After that initial push, his admirers don’t really pick up the hint and continue to talk at him. It might be considered a conversation except for the fact that Dirk doesn’t answer any of them. His poker face is tight, giving off an expression of boredom with a lining of disdain that doesn’t waver no matter what the others in the crowd offer him.

He lets Hal aggregate the data from the multiple speakers, all talking over each other to try to get his attention as he carefully looks them all over without letting his gaze settle for too long lest they get the idea that he is interested in them. All of them have brand name, expensive labels on their outfits. He’s a little less familiar with the dresses that the women wear but he knows that they are the latest fashions. The men are as equally put together. Most of them sit below Dirk’s height with only one woman’s heels putting her just above eye level with him. She’s not as pushy as the rest but with her presence lining the edge of the crowd, Dirk feels just all that more trapped.

They are agents for popular modeling firms.

The words appear in white on his shades.

For the most part.  
Ms. Titan over there is actually an editor of a magazine.

Dirk rolls his eyes in consideration.

Yeah, that’s what I thought too. It’s a tech mag. Wouldn’t be bad but first you gotta get rid of the rest of the leeches who obviously want you for your flawless skin and youthful charm. The gazelle legs and high cheekbones don’t hurt either.

Dirk crinkles the edges of his eyes in amusement, unable to respond in greater detail to the AI.

Oooh, that one dude wants you to model for Vilebrequin. Not bad. Though not sure how much Jake would appreciate you showing off your package for the world.

A slight dip of his eyebrows in a hidden frown.

Swimwear. Though Bro would appreciate you in a thong or two.

Another roll of his eyes this time in contempt.

Yeah, didn’t think you’d go for that. You know you can tell them to buzz off, right?

Another frown.

D wouldn’t be mad over that. You aren’t going to piss him off by telling these people no.

Dirk isn’t one to get all flustered over the paparazzi like Bro. He didn’t mind his picture being taken and the paparazzi wouldn’t dare make the same accusations that they did so many years ago between Dirk and D. For one, they still didn’t quite know his age. And two, Dirk was the cute younger brother. Obviously brotherly. (Except behind closed doors where Dirk pounded D’s ass.)

The current attention is actually kinda flattering. Of course Jake swoons over Dirk’s aesthetics. And his family of course calls him handsome and cute. But this is basically objective proof that he is considered at the top or close enough to the top of current cultural standards of attractiveness. It’s flattering if he lets it go to his head.

“Just imagine your face up on billboards over the interstate.”

“Or all over television. My agency can get some pretty good time slots.”

“With your coloring, you could pull off so many pallets.”

“Imagine all of the girls that you want chasing after you.”

“Ah, well...” Dirk starts.

_That’s_ what gets you to react?

“Let us take care of everything for you.”

“My agency has some openings for an initial shoot next Wednesday. Your headshots will look stunning with what our studio can do.”

“I’m flattered but-” he lifts a hand only to have it grabbed by one of the women.

“Just look at these hands! They alone could be modeled. We’d get you good insurance on them.”

Dirk roughly pulls his hand out of her grip, feeling her nails trail along his skin. He can’t help but quickly rub them against his pant leg to try to get rid of the sensation despite how rude it might look like. But they are all so enamored with him and trying to win his attention that none of them look like they even noticed. Instead they just press further in, jostling each other a little. The deck railing is digging into Dirk’s back with how far back he is.

“You’re just so pretty!”

Dirk’s beginning to freak out a little bit. Not letting it show on his face of course, but he’s not enjoying the sensation of being pinned especially after such an unwanted touch. He begins calculating how far of a drop it is behind him when suddenly he relaxes down.

Over the heads of the pressing agents Dirk sees D. D who has gathered himself up and is standing at his full height. Dirk represses his smirk because he knows that means only one thing. Trouble for those causing him trouble. The death glare on D’s face is actually quite comforting.

The woman Hal dubbed Ms. Titan, either because of her name or her stature Dirk isn’t sure, had stayed back from the mess to begin with and wisely slinks away as soon as D appears.

D reaches out and places his hands on two of the agents’ shoulders to give them warning of his looming presence. Dirk watches how they are slightly thrown off balance towards each other. He can read D’s desire to actually knock their heads together and the restraint there is gorgeous. Dirk will need to do some more voluntary binding with D later.

A quick glance over their shoulder gives them the information of who is standing there, but the closest one’s brain is still stuck on Dirk so he doesn’t take in his dark demeanor immediately.

“Oh Strider! Your brother is such an angel! We could do great thin-” It finally hits the poor man. Dirk has to hold back his laughter at the sudden swallow. “Um. That is to say... uh...”

D doesn’t wear his shades to parties, his eyes dark enough to pass as an odd shade of brown. Which means that the agents are getting the full effect of the cold glare that D is giving them.

“Good evening,” D starts. Dirk can almost hear the katana’s edge ringing in his voice. One of the agents on the edge disappears just at that, probably needing to change their pants after a possible primal fear reaction. “I see you have met my little brother. And as darling as he is,” Dirk gets a shiver down his back at how deceitfully pleasant D is being, “he is actually not at all available. With his schooling and future plans and all. Now, if you could please step back from where you are cornering him on the deck and leave him alone for probably now until forever-”

“But we were just-”

“If you say another word to him or myself, I will personally ruin your company and make sure that no other agency will ever hire you again.” D finishes with a smile that is cold and steely. With a little bit of pushing and shoving, at each other all without touching the Striders, the agents quickly clear the area.

Once they are all gone, D slouches back down, losing a couple inches. He sidles up against the railing next to Dirk.

“You ran all our friends away. Ruining all of my fun.”

“That’s not what a little birdy told me. Hal predicted a seventy five point bullshit chance that you were considering jumping off of the deck.”

Dirk slumps down as well. “Yeah well...”

“I don’t blame you actually. You are fresh blood and they are the sharks swimming in the shallow pool of new talent so they saw an opportunity and took it because it’s not like they have any sense of decorum or couth. They are almost as bad as the paparazzi and I really don’t want to have to instigate another couple of unfortunate accidents because it’s hard to Rube Goldberg that shit with other people involved. The damned pidgeon nearly made that last one twice as bad as we were intending. That’s what made me start that petition against the winged rats and I nearly had the number of signatures I needed because who knew there that were that many people who had been traumatized by pigeons, but it didn’t go as viral as I wanted which is probably a pretty good thing because I didn’t want to be remembered as the saint of Hollywood who chased out all of the vermin. Though if I was, I’d totally have my holiday in August because that way I wouldn’t have to share the month with any other holiday.”

Dirk bumps into his shoulder to shut him up. “That would be a kiss for my knight in shining armor if we weren’t in public with probably a minimum of three cameras trained on our area.”

“Aw, you brat. Making me all sappy in public.” D throws a long arm around Dirk’s shoulder and pulls him in for a brotherly hug that Dirk appropriately tries to squirm out of (and takes the opportunity to inconspicuously grope D). “Come on, let’s head home. I’ve paid my dues, time after time. I’ve done my sentence, but committed no crime-”

“Seriously?”

“Hey it’s fitting. And I can pull it off.”

“Sure you can, D, sure you can.” Dirk pushes off away from the railing.

“Hey!” D follows him, keeping an eye out for any other agents that might try again.

“Can I drive?”

“Only if I can sing.”

“Keep the keys.”

“Brat,” D says with a smile as he waves his goodbyes to the host.

* * *

 

The ride over is quiet. Quiet enough that Dirk almost falls asleep. But he stirs in the parking lot before D has to decide whether he was going to wake him or try to carry him inside. The way Dirk leans against him in the elevator is cute, cute enough that D can’t help but snuggle back against him, pulling him in and rubbing their heads together. Dirk sighs against him and lets him do his big brother thing.

As soon as the suite door is closed though, Dirk turns in D’s arms and kisses him. He keeps the sweet flavor they have going on even as he gently navigates them over to the bed. Ties are loosened and cufflinks tossed onto the near by table. Shoes are kicked off and jackets shed. Dirk falls back onto the bed and scoots up to the middle. D takes the opportunity to slip off his socks and undo his belt buckle before climbing over Dirk. They undo each other’s button downs and push the shirts off of their shoulders. D kisses Dirk’s chest as Dirk wriggles out of his pants, toeing off his socks at the same time. When those are kicked to the floor then Dirk’s hands come up to D’s waist, pulling him up so he could take a turn at kissing D’s chest. He finishes undressing D and then pulls him back down into a kiss.

As they rub against each other, the slow pace gets left behind. Erections come alive and line up, sensitive heads brushing. The kiss dissolves into light biting and panting. D grinds down against Dirk and Dirk arches up into him. It gets hotter and hotter as they go. Dirk’s fingers are tangled in his silky hair. D’s arms are tucked under the small of his back.

“D, D, I want you to top,” Dirk manages to get out when D latches onto his throat again.  D moans against his skin for a moment before pulling away.

“Like riding you?” he asks cautiously.

“No. Like fucking me and showing me what sort of stud you are with your cock pounding into my ass making me moan like a whore.”

“Oh.” Dirk feels D shudder at the commanding explanation.

“Any... particular reason?” D stretches a long arm out to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lube sitting there from their romp before getting ready for the party.

“Well, for thanks.” Dirk glances down at D scooting down the bed. “I’m serious about you being my knight. You saved me from jumping out of my gilded t-” Dirk gasps as slick fingers breach him. D kisses his apologies into the soft skin of Dirk’s inner thighs. “Tower so I wouldn’t be captive to those scoundrels who just wanted my princely fair skin and golden locks.”

D smiles at him, lightly laughing at the metaphor.

“But I’m serious though. Thanks for that.”

“Shhhhh,” D draws out as he moves back up the bed, still working two fingers in and out of Dirk. “Always got to take care of my spiky haired idiot brothers.”

“Always?”

“The both of you.” D cuts off any more conversation about it with another deep kiss, drinking in the moans as he slips another finger in to stretch him out. Dirk has to push him away when he feels completely stretched out, enough to easily and comfortably take D’s dick because D would have been happy just kissing and fingering him but Dirk wants more.

D moves over him, slipping in between his legs and caging his upper body with his arms braced against the bed. Dirk reaches down and helps guide him in, not that he needed much help with how loose he made Dirk and how hard he is. D slides home inside of Dirk, kissing him some more when he bottoms out. Dirk’s shoulders relax first, willfully relaxing the rest of himself to accommodate D’s length. D waits until he’s ready before beginning a slow sweet pace, bringing back the tempo found at the start of the rendezvous. Now that he’s full, Dirk doesn’t mind.

In fact, Dirk likes the feeling of being tucked up underneath D’s limbs for the night. He enjoys the soft kisses and forehead touches that D bestows. He loves the feel of D’s muscles as they move underneath his hands and under his legs thrown around D’s hips. He indulges his senses in D, breathing in his light cologne and masculine natural odor, the way their moans mix and fill the room, tasting the buildup of sweat across his collarbones, the way D scrunches up his eyes when he gets close.

“Dirk, Dirk, please.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m there too.”

“Please, Dirk.”

“Come with me D, come with-” Dirk goes stiff under D’s pumping hips as his orgasm hits him first. His tightness, choked moans, and of course the command to follow him over drags D through his own pleasured release, finally stumbling in his rhythm as he fills Dirk up.

Dirk has to push him away after he’s come but before he collapses down on top of his little brother for the night. D allows himself to be rolled onto his side, letting Dirk escape to go clean up a bit. He's already ninety percent asleep when Dirk returns, having to maneuver him again to get his long legs under the covers. D is a little less helpful as he’s so drowsy and it’s amusing to watch Dirk struggle and bite back curses in his heady post coital state. Eventually Dirk gets him where Dirk wants him and slips under the sheets as well, curling up with D’s arms wrapped around him.

The quiet of the night, the warmth of protection, and the satisfaction of a good fuck make it easy for the two of them to slip into a deep sleep with smiles on their faces.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.


	4. Hal v Jealousy Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal gets outfitted with a new shades model and gets to accompany D to Hollywood to act as his personal assistant slash wearable super computer. Ey gets to meet a couple interesting characters out there.

“Whoa, when did you get stylish? You are looking hella sexy there, Hal. I’d let you sit on my face.”

Hal is very glad that ey’s actually only circuits and codes and can’t actually blush. Ey hopes that Dirk doesn’t notice the bump in CPU usage. But if glasses could blush, ey would be as red as a tomato. Or a sunburnt Dave.

“Seriously, you’re all curves. It’s a good change from the scalene triangle look. Not that the angles weren’t sleek as fuck but not for my face,” D continues.

“Actually that’s exactly why we changed designs for Hal’s backup shades. Bro and I shouldn’t be the only ones to suffer, I mean, enjoy looking through Hal tinted shades. We all know that you like him on your face even with the angles.”

D blushes a bit, remembering the long scripts of dirty talk that he’s been subjected to (and invited) with Hal’s original shades. “Well...”

“You do know he’s a lot more capable than just dirty talk.” Dirk raises an eyebrow and watches D’s narrow down into a frown. “Yeah, you know that vague talk of enhanced reality?”

“You’re the one that reads all of the tech magazines like they are Playboy and Hustler.”

“Enhanced reality through computerized glasses that can project onto surfaces through the lens, turning anything into an interactable device. With limitations. But those companies are still years behind making it viable. Mostly because they are thinking that the user will know best.”

“But you’ve designed an artificial intelligence.”

“Hal can do better object recognition than any algorithm and makes better decisions than any user, eliminating ninety percent of errors. And Hal can handle all of the other errors. He’s voice and glance controlled. Able to connect to wireless and 4G-”

“Is that legal?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Not really,” D winces because that dodgy of an answer just means that it is mostly illegal and D shouldn’t know about it.

“Then it’s not important,” Dirk shrugs off. “Think of him as a personal assistant that you wear. Be careful of how much you talk to him around others because you will look insane talking to yourself.”

“In this day and age, bluetooth is the new crazy talk.”

“Whatever you want. Don’t blame me or Hal for the tabloids.”

“They’ll be too busy complimenting me on my style,” D says as he picks up the aviator shades and puts them on, “and trying to figure out how to replicate such a handsome face.”

“Pft, yeah right.”

I think you’re handsome.

“At least Hal’s got taste.”

Hal tries not to let eir CPU clock out again, especially as D looks into the nearest mirror to check out how he looks. Hal decides to show off little and starts pulling up the interface, locking onto the dimensions of the mirror. D, to his credit, only startles a little bit when the text pops up on the lens. There is a little name plate under his face “D Strider, Director” and several interesting, at least to Hal, data facts listed beside his face. D moves his head around and Hal makes the exact calculations to keep the data lined up with image of the mirror to D’s line of sight. Hal switches it from factoids to weather reports and trending headlines.

Go ahead and point to one.

“Do I need to touch the mirror itself?”

“Crazy,” Dirk singsongs as he moves away, checking on the information output.

No, I’ll pick up the general direction.

D lifts his arms and ‘taps’ on the headline “Cannibal Corpse Blasting From Papal Apartment Window” because what the fuck does that even mean, but then as Hal brings up the article, filling up the mirror and blocking D’s reflection, D realizes it’s from the Onion. In fact, all of the previous headlines might have been.

“Okay that’s kinda cool.” He waves his hand and is impressed with the digital images are brushed away as well. “I can get used to this.”

“Good, because Hal seems to be enjoying himself. All you have to do is plug the glasses in over night like you would your phone. So take him to Hollywood and see how he does.”

“Are you trying to tell me something? Are you trying to get me out of the apartment? Do you not love me any more, Dirk?” D’s voice gets progressively whinier and more pathetic.

I’ll always love you, D.

“I know you will, Hal.” Hal freaks out a bit thinking that D’s picked up on eir secret crush. “You love me more than any of the other traitorous brothers. You’re a true brother, Hal. Fraternal to your kernel.”

“Don’t try to use computer terms to make yourself look smarter than you are.”

“Hey, I read all of those trashy mags that you leave in the bathroom. I actually know what I am talking about. Don’t I, Hal?”

Of course you do.

“Of course he’ll take your side, D. Now get out of here. I’m sure Hal has your flight information.”

You have just over thirty minutes until your flight which is scheduled for a 2:00 pm departure with a 3:30 pm arrival after a three and a half hour flight. Your return flight is in seven days with a 10:30 am departure. In that week it seems you have an average of five appointments per day. You should leave now to prevent delays as traffic is starting to snarl.

“Fuck. Do I have to go to Hollywood? Aren’t I rich enough?”

It seems you could currently live comfortably at your current level of spend for the next ten years. Fifteen if you cut out all of those energy drinks.

“Only five extra years?”

I’m assuming that you gain the time to actually eat which involves buying groceries. Or at least more take out.

“Ah. Well damn. Guess I have to keep working. Alright, alright, I’m off. Say bye to the others for me, will you? I’ll have Hal text you when I land I guess.”

Yes, I have that ability.

“I’ll learn about what else you can do.”

“That doesn’t sound dirty at all, D. Try not to sex up your new secretary too much.”

“Unless Hal’s wearing one of those tight pencil skirts, I’m sure I can resist. Au revoir!”

Hal adds a collection of pencil skirt references to eir virtual wardrobe.

* * *

Hal helps D with getting to the airport, giving him driving instructions to get around the wreck that piled up on the interstate just after D left the apartment. Another one of eir helpful features. Ey snaps a pretty cool selfie as D glances into the rearview mirror. They get to the airfield with just enough time to throw D’s bags into the plane and sink down into the plush seat with a mixed drink in hand as the plane takes off exactly on time.

“Alright, run me through what other features you have.”

Email, texting, phone calls, calendar, web search, camera, video, object recognition, visual analysis, anything digital that you can think of. Seriously, as a learnable, if you suggest something, I can write code to make it happen.

“You write your own code?”

Dirk has to check it of course. But, yes. I do the majority of my own self improvements.

“From the glasses? Like, how does your connection to the other... things- chassis, that’s the word, your other chassis work?”

For all intents and purposes I am in these glasses. Currently 75% of my processing is being directed here. 4% to the sprite chassis. 4% to the bot chassis. 4% to my old glasses. 4% to back up connection. 9% to my online presence. I still have blogs to run.

“Oh, so I’m only worth seventy-five percent. I see how it is.”

No. It’s not like that. The words are quick to appear, much faster than Hal’s usual display.

“Calm down, I’m just teasing. I’m honored to get that much attention from a super computer. These glasses are really something, aren’t they? Dirk’s outdone himself this time.”

He has excellent craftsmanship. Yes.

“The design too.” D pauses when there is no confirmation on the screen. “He did design these, right?”

In a way it seems.

“Okay?”

He designed me with the ability to improve myself and I used the references from the previous glasses and chassis to design this lightweight multifunctional pair that leave Google Glasses in the dust. I have to say, you are currently wearing the most elegant piece of circuitry that this decade will ever produce. Ey pulls up some of the schematics to show off eir work.

“You designed these,” D says with awe. “Very, very well done.” He looks at the drawings showing up on the lens, impressed with the way he can read the tiny details without feeling cross eyed. In fact, the drawing shifts as he looks to the edge as if his eyes were a cursor scrolling across an image. “Colored me impressed. Now show me how to use all of these cool tools.”

* * *

Since Hal knew that D didn’t have any appointments when he landed in Hollywood, ey requested that D drive em around the city so ey can both experience it from this angle and so ey can show off eir new talents. Ey uses the directions again while taking pictures of everything (especially any reflective surfaces that ey can see emself and D in) and bringing up facts about certain areas of the city and labeling buildings as they pass them. D is definitely impressed at how handy Hal is and how quickly he is getting comfortable with the ocular cues and hand gesture combination that Hal uses to interpret what D wants without having to be vocal about it, cutting down on how crazy D will look.

With the time zone change, they bought themselves several hours which were spent exploring the city, going to familiar and new haunts, and eating dinner at a place that Hal found to be highly recommended. And from how D moaned around the shawarma, it was as good as the online reviews said it was.

It was just after sundown before they get back to D’s building where Hal gets to meet the staff, albeit without introduction. Hal gets a strange sensation that ey traces back to the thought that these people get to live with D when he has to be in Hollywood. Ey doesn’t understand why ey would be... upset? with that idea. Of course they live with him out here, they work in the building. Ey’s confused even further when ey considers that they probably don’t even live at the building, just work in it and live in their own places.

Eir thoughts are interrupted when D arrives at his suite and shrugs off his jacket. “Ugh, I can feel the smog on my skin. I need a shower.” He reaches up to take off the shades, planning on just tossing them on the bed until afterwards.

I can play music. Hal types quickly. What do you want to listen to?

“Oh, cool, uh... surprise me.” He walks into the bathroom and sets the shades down on the counter before stripping down the rest of the way. Clouds of steam billow up as soon as he turns on the water. Hal snaps a couple candid shots before D’s image gets too blurred, saving them to a special server that even Dirk wouldn’t ever find. Hal puts on some Strider mixes that ey pulls down from the cloud.

* * *

Hal helps manage D’s schedule over the next couple of days, keeping him aware of his appointments and making sure he got there on time by planning distances and travel. Hal even helps offer background information about the person that he is talking to, accessing past notes and web searches and providing them on any blank space in D’s vision. D even finds himself purposely standing a certain way to make sure Hal as room to post the information.

His assistant raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him when he meets her consistently on their way to the meetings instead of her having to hunt him down and drag him away. Not that Porrim would complain about the new behavior. She’s just obliquely interested in why there is a sudden change in her employer’s time management.

Hal even assisted in quickly researching employment laws in real time as D had to confront and fire a cast member over his behavior and lack of respect towards others members. D was drawn over at first by loud yelling and ranting courtesy of one of his favorite cameramen who for some reason keeps working for and with D despite having graduated from college a month ago. D hoped he wasn’t terrorizing yet another intern but when he arrived, he found it was one of the electricians who has been around for years snarling back at the venomous rantings going on inches from his face. D stepped in just as it looked like he was about to pull his fist back and slug his favorite camera man.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

“He’s lost his fuckin’ mind that’s what’s goin’ on. Just started rantin’ and railin’ which we’ve all learned to ignore but then he got all up into my face like that and I was just gonna defend myself from Karl.”

“MY NAME IS NOT FUCKING KARL. IT’S KARKAT AND YOU BETTER RESPECT THAT! YOU BETTER RESPECT ME, YOU NOOKCRUNCHING GRUBSHITTING CLUSTERFUCKER!” He runs into D’s arm in an attempt to get at the electrician.

“Karkat, calm down. Pretty sure some of those weren’t even words, Mr. McShouty. Though you’re telling them to me later so I can add them to a script that needs better insults.”

“Don’t know why you’re gettin’ so upset about a nickname. He’s not upset about your nick for him.”

“Karkat’s never asked me not to call him that. But I have heard him ask you not to call him ‘Karl’ before. Why haven’t you respected his wishes?”

“Karl,” D feels the cameraman’s growl in his chest, “is so much easier to say than Karkat. What sort of sand name is that anyways? Just trying to give him an easier name, an American name.” The growling gets worse.

“Okay, one, Karkat is a great name. Two, it’s only one syllable longer. Three, Karkat isn’t harder to pronounce. Four, it’s his fucking name. Five, Karkat’s as American as you are. Six, even if he wasn’t, his ancestors aren’t from a fucking desert!”

“He’s the one that nearly attacked me! He’s just a sandy attack dog!”

D, you can fire him for discrimination if you want. In fact, I highly suggest it. This is not his first confrontation. Even with other cast members. He does not provide enough utility for what you pay him, nor for the strife he brings. The law is on your side. And I have recorded the evidence in case he does try to go to court for unlawful termination.

D nods slightly and Hal clears the text. “That’s it. You’re fired. Get your stuff and get off my set.”

It still took a while and listening to a lot of rants to calm his cameraman back down to levels of anger that wouldn’t affect his work. Hal graciously handled a meeting in his stead, moving it to a better time.

* * *

Closer to the end of the week, D has a dinner reservation set up with one Jane Crocker. Hal gets that weird sensation again as ey watch D gets ready for his date. D puts much more attention into his outfit and appearance and hygiene than he has all week. He’s not too fancy, it’s not a black tie affair, but Hal has to admit even from very objective standards that D looks nice.

From a subjective standpoint Hal is upset that he looks that good for Jane. But ey can’t pinpoint what exactly is making em upset. D’s dressed up nice before. Even nicer sometimes. And he’s gone on plenty of dates with Jane before as Hal can tell from his archived calendar. But ey still can’t shake the strange feeling.

It doesn’t get any better when they pick Jane up from her place. It’s still early enough that shades are acceptable so Hal gets a very good view of Jane as she walks from her cute home down to the car. Objectively she’s as cute as a button (prompting Hal to run searches trying to figure out why that’s a phrase) and dresses up just as nicely as D does in silk slacks and an embroidered waist coat under a cream blouse that goes very well with her darker skin. Subjectively Hal feels eir usage jump up again.

Ey analyzes emself as ey feels two similar but almost conflicting feelings. One is familiar to the sensation ey felt back at the hotel with the staff and watching D dress up. The second is similar to what Hal went through before his rooftop confession with Bro about his feelings for D.

Shit.

* * *

Bro.  
Bro.  
Bro.  
TT: Jesus. What.  
I think I have a crush on Jane.  
TT: Don’t be teasin me, li’l byte.  
I ain’t teasin.  
TT: Well shit.  
That’s what I said.  
TT: You’re fallin for all the cuties.  
TT: Ya gonna be okay?  
I  
I think so.  
TT: Thought he had a date with the chick tonight.  
He does. He is. On the date.  
TT: Ah.  
Yeah...  
She’s cute. And nice. And  
TT: And?  
TT: Hal?  
TT: Guess I’ll talk to ya later.

* * *

“Are those new shades, D?”

“They are. My brother made them for me. They’re pretty cool. You know that project I told you he made?”

“Uh... the artificial intelligence one? What he name it... Hal!”

“Yeah, Hal. Well, these shades are currently holding seventy-fi-”

82%

“Eighty-two percent of his attention. They’re pretty much a wearable computer. Want to check them out?”

“Sure!”

D slides the shades off his face and hands them to Jane who promptly puts them back on.

Hello, Jane.

“Oh!”

“That’s probably Hal.”

“Um... Hello, Hal.”

How are you today?

“Fine. And you?”

Alright. We had to fire someone today. It was exciting. You look nice.

“Why thank you, Hal! You had to fire someone?”

“Oh yeah, someone was giving Karkat issues at work today. Gave a lot of people issues really. Glad to be rid of him.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“I’ll give you the details later. We’re almost there.”

“Alright. Then I guess good ni-”

Actually before you go. I have a couple questions.

“Oh?”

I’m a Human Algorithm Learnable which means i can learn new things and some of those new things are feelings and ive been having feelings that i cant quite name or figure out and i was wondering if you could help me

“That sounds like something D or Dirk might be able to-”

im feeling it about you its an issue with you i think i feel... i dont want to share D with you... like i dont mind sharing him with the other striders because im a strider and were family and they arent taking him and i get him back but you might not give him back and that makes me upset that you get to take time with him even though you arent a strider

“Oh,” she says softly. D looks over at her with a concerned look. She just waves him off.

i keep wondering why are you here even though i know the logical answer and keep answering myself but then i ask if you will be more loved than me which makes sense since im not real but doesnt stop me from feeling real and bro says im real but i cant help but wonder if D wont need me if you are here and its just stupid and im dumb.

“Oh Hal.”

“Seriously, everything okay?” D asks out loud as he pulls into the parking lot and turns off the car.

“Yes, yes, just give us a moment, will you?”

D frowns slightly but gets out of the car and takes the moment to straighten out his jacket, trying not to eavesdrop.

“Hal, sweetie, that’s jealousy.”

Hal takes a moment to pull up the definition and yes, that matches Hal’s feelings without all of the personal information.

Ah. I see. Thank you. I’m sorry to keep you from your date. I hope you and D have a wonderful time. He really likes you, you know. And pencil skirts.

“I do. And I like him. And you like him.”

Yes. Please don’t tell him.

“I won’t. But we should talk sometime.”

I-I would like that.

“Do you have my contact information?”

Yes.

“Then I look forward to talking, Hal.”

Thank you. Go have fun for me.

“I will.” She slides the shades off of her face and puts them neatly in the console before she gets out of the car.

“Everything-”

“Everything’s fine. Just a bit of girl talk,” Jane brushes off as she takes D’s arm, pulling on him lightly to get him to lean over so she can kiss him properly. “Now let’s enjoy our date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.

**Author's Note:**

> For more information please check out our work at striderclan.tumblr.com; we have more stories, head canons, art/pictures.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [D Strider ==> Go the Fuck to Sleep](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4026403) by [symbioticSimplicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbioticSimplicity/pseuds/symbioticSimplicity)




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